


Snapshots

by Thysanotus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Era, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-25
Updated: 2005-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-27 07:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thysanotus/pseuds/Thysanotus
Summary: The second of the five fics, resulting from prompts I asked for. This one is forfivil. The prompt was ”Harry/Luna, prosperity, consolation, shriek, plunge and slick.” I hope it’s to your liking, Sanni. Note: I’m writing these fics in the order of the prompts I received.





	Snapshots

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Harry sees Luna on the railway platform. She smiles at him, eyes wide, teeth bared. He wonders if she knows she has spinach stuck between her teeth, but grins back anyhow. Her hair is caught in messy pigtails, with a quill stuck into one. Harry wants to take it out and slide it between his fingers, stroke it between Luna’s breasts, run it down her smooth skin, over the knobs of her spine. He blushes and looks away, sure she can read his thoughts emblazoned on his face. The quill is dusky grey, a long pinion feather, and it stands out like a ribbon in Luna’s pale blonde straggly hair.  
  
He climbs onto the train, and blames his red face on the heat.  
  
\--  
  
Luna sees Harry in the corridor opposite the one-eyed witch. He is running late for Transfigurations, and his arms are full of books and quills. Luna is studying the cracks in the floor, trying to delay her journey towards the Divination classroom. Professor Trelawney always predicts that she will be seeing her mother very soon, and experience a sudden decline in prosperity. It makes Luna oddly uncomfortable, because she always does see her mother after that – in her porridge, the way the wind blew a curtain and once, in Draco Malfoy’s robes. She was hexed to sneeze for a week after she followed him around the school, staring intently at his robe, but the smile from her mother was worth it, she decides. She’s never had money problems, though.  
  
She doesn’t see Harry, knocking parchment and quills from his arms onto the floor.  
  
\--  
  
Harry meets Luna in the library. She has her head pillowed on her arms, and she’s blowing pieces of paper over the desk, undisturbed by the glares Madame Pince is angling in her direction. He watches the movement of her pale pink lips, wondering if that’s how they would move against his own. Wondering if they would be papery and dry, or rosy fresh, flushed and slick against his own. He drops his books onto the table with a thud, the sound echoing through the library. Luna laughs, watching her pieces of paper drift on the sudden breeze to float, spiralling lazily through the air and ending like tiny snowflakes under Madame Pince’s desk.  
  
He looks at Luna, concerned; the Boy-Who-Lived determined to become the Boy-Who-Sacrificed.  
  
\--  
  
Luna meets Harry in the Great Hall. He trips over his untied shoelace, sprawling at her feet. Luna can’t help herself and dissolves into giggles before offering him her hand in consolation. He brushes it away, and she hopes he’s okay. Stiffly, he informs her that nothing is broken, and he limps towards the Gryffindor table. Luna grabs his arm impulsively, telling him she learnt Muggle massage skills for an investigative report for _The Quibbler_ , entitled: _Muggle Medicine: Fact or Fiction?_ Harry manages to bite his tongue long enough to nod his head, agreeing to her offer.  
  
She tells him to meet her at 7 pm, at the top of the Astronomy Tower.  
  
\--  
  
Harry kisses Luna, teeth and tongue meeting in a frantic battle. She laughs, pushing him gently back, showing him how to do it, patiently instructing. When one of his hands slips down the front of her robes, she makes an agreeable sound and lets him stroke her breasts with his fingertips. She lets out a shriek as his tongue slips into her ear, leading to an apology and the removal of a Jelly-Legs hex. Harry thinks muzzily that he could sit here for hours, legs dangling off the tower, tongue exploring Luna’s mouth – she tastes of cherry and cool, crisp air, he thinks absentmindedly – hands learning her shape, defining her boundaries, her molecules drifting in space.  
  
He passes her outer robe, and she slips into it, giving him a wink as she adjusts the telescope.  
  
\--  
  
Luna kisses Harry, pressed in the broom cupboard. She plunges forward, pressing against him. He breaks off, moving brooms away from his back, and she’s shoving him into the wall, frantic. Her mouth is everywhere, lips and teeth and tongue, leaving spots of fire along his skin, her hair sticking here and there, damp with sweat. Her hand is small, and undoes his trousers too quickly for Harry to complain, the muffled sound muted by Luna’s mouth devouring him whole while her hand works busily. He jerks and bucks, pinned between Luna and the wall, neither giving an inch. The moment, when it arrives, is relatively quick, and he whines, exhaling through his nostrils as Luna smiles, feather tucked in her hair and fingers slim and white.  
  
She doesn’t look back as she leaves the cupboard.


End file.
